Untitled, in Three Parts
by XerxesRises
Summary: She's learned the horrible secret that her parents are keeping from her and she runs, but this time it's to Killian's arms and the Jolly Roger that she flees. It's not long before they take advantage of the time alone to show each other exactly how they feel. Some spoilers for 4B, mostly just an excuse for some smut and romance on the newly returned Jolly.
1. Part I

_A/N: This story popped into my head and I just had to get it out, despite being in the middle of writing another story. I hope you enjoy. It wasn't meant to be in 3 parts, but it was too long to post all at once._

_Disclaimer: Yeah, if I owned anything about this show, I'd never leave my house._

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She called him, her voice breaking, asking if she can stay the night with him. She's never asked him that before and he hesitates. It's not that he doesn't want her with him, but somewhere along the way they've made a silent agreement to go slow, tread carefully. Spending the night together is for a future time, a happy time that he's more than willing to wait for.

He is, after all, a patient man.

But because this is Emma and she needs him, he agrees, meeting her at the docks where he finds her sitting on a bench, staring out over the water.

He calls out her name as he approaches and she's instantly up and running, her body ramming hard into his as he opens his arms to her. He asks what's wrong, but all she can do is tremble against him and press a choked sob into the leather of his coat.

When it's clear that she can't explain right now, he pulls back and swipes at her tears with the back of his fingers. The look in her eyes instantly catches his attention. It's the sadness of a lost little girl with one too many disappointments hoisted onto her already overburdened shoulders.

"Come." He says, reaching for her hand and pulling her gently toward the _Jolly Roger_.

It's only been a few days since his beloved ship was returned to him. Emma hasn't had a chance to visit her yet, the business of Storybrooke keeping her occupied. He, of course, has spent as much time as possible here, removing the remnants of Blackbeard's time onboard and sleeping in his quarters despite the March cold. The gentle rocking of the ship soothes him like nothing else and he wakes every morning, rejuvenated and giddily happy in his bed.

When they get close enough to make out the _Jolly's_ name on her hull, he can't fight back a grin. He throws a look over his shoulder at Emma and her hand tightens around his as they walk up to her.

He loves the sound his boot heel makes striking wood as he steps down onto the deck. He turns to help his lady love step down next, setting his hook carefully at her hip as he guides her down next to him.

It's not lost on him that he's welcoming royalty onto his ship and he presses a kiss to Emma's knuckles as he bows over her hand. She shakes her head at him in chagrin, but he can see the pretty blush on her cheeks at his gesture. Letting go of her hand, he reaches up to tuck a few random tendrils of hair behind her ear. She stares at him, the beautiful green of her eyes marred with the tears she hasn't yet shed and he clenches his jaw with concern.

He takes her hand again, leading her to his cabin. She makes her way down into his room first and he follows quickly behind. He finds her standing in the middle of the room, a bit awestruck to be on board the _Jolly _again. She gives him a watery smile, sniffling a little, and he can't help but grin back, happy to have the two loves of his life with him.

"Killian." She says softly.

"I know, love." Then she's turning from him, hand running over the table next to her hip as she takes in the remaining bits and pieces of Blackbeard's time here.

"Is she okay?" She asks with concern and he smiles to hear it.

"Aye. None the worse for wear, I'm happy to report." She sniffles again and her eyes glaze over as she stares at the mermaids that decorate the walls.

"The last time I was here was when we were in the Enchanted Forest. Do you remember?" She asks wistfully.

"Of course I do, Swan." In fact, the memory prickles a bit and he frowns.

She'd been kissing his former self, trying to keep him _occupied_, so his current self could make a hasty escape. He'd been annoyingly jealous of the heated kisses they were sharing and had acted rashly, knocking out his previous self. He shakes his head at the memory and when he looks back to her, she's biting her lip in amusement.

"What?" He asks grumpily, turning to light the lanterns around the room, thumbing at the modern lighter he carries with him now.

"Nothing. You're just cute when you're jealous, especially when you're jealous of yourself."

"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response, Swan." He harrumphs, moving past her to continue lighting the lanterns. She wanders around the space, fingers landing on this or that, fingers running lovingly over the spines of his many books as she reads the titles.

He watches her surreptitiously, catches the way she tries to keep her face composed and the way her fingers shake as she sets the books back down. When she finally stops to stare again at the mermaids, he goes to her, slides his hand into hers and leads her over to his bunk.

He settles her down on the mattress then perches next to her, keeping her fingers wrapped in his. "What's happened, love?" He asks gently, carefully watching her face for any signs of distress.

She lifts her eyes to his and they're tear filled again. Her lip trembles and he reaches out for her, pulls her into his arms. Her head nestles into his shoulder and as is her habit now, she presses her free hand over his chest, resting it atop the charms of his necklace. He knows she's making sure his heart is still there, making sure that nothing has happened to it since the last time she's seen him.

It calms her and he's not ashamed to admit that it does the same for him.

He holds her, feels the tension in her body start to ease. When he can't hear her sniffling any longer and her trembling has stopped, he pulls away to stand before her. He uses his hook to lift her chin and finds smudges like dark bruises under her eyes. Her face is pale, cheeks smeared with tears.

Frowning, he brings his hand up to the top button of her red, quilted coat, popping it free from its mooring.

"Jacket off, Swan." He orders, gesturing toward the rest of the buttons.

She looks up at him for a moment, thick black lashes clumped together with her tears. Thankfully, she doesn't argue with him and she finishes unbuttoning her coat, shrugging out of it to hand to him. He hangs it on a peg along the wall, turning back to hunker down before her and lifting one of her booted heals to his thigh. She watches as he unzips the boot, pulling it gently off and setting it to the side, repeating the actions on the other foot.

Standing, he takes the boots and places them beneath her jacket along the wall. Then his coat comes off and he hands it next to hers, his boots left beside hers. It makes for quite the domestic picture, he thinks, and then he's making his way back to her.

He stops in front of her, hand on his hip as they contemplate each other. She'd asked him to let her spend the night with him and she looks like she's about to pass out, so he decides that explanations can wait.

"Time for bed, Swan." He says softly. She looks over her shoulder, eyeing the small space that he wants them to share. She quirks an eyebrow and looks back at him.

"There's not enough room for both of us." She says, looking at him in question. Her voice is husky, nose plugged. It shouldn't be attractive and yet, he feels a pull, a twist in his gut that steals his breath and makes his heart race for her.

His blood pounding through his veins, he smirks at her, eyebrow climbing high on his brow as he considers her.

"What's the matter, love? Afraid you won't be able to resist me if we're pressed together from bow to stern?"

She snorts at that, rolling her eyes as she stands and lets him slide onto the bed first. Then she follows, pressing herself into his side and wrapping her arm around him.

"I'm never going to be able to sleep." She mutters against him, nestled securely into his side. He brings his hand up to brush her hair over her shoulder, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to her forehead.

"You'll fall asleep in no time, Swan." He says. He can feel her relax into him by degrees, her feet wrapping around one of his ankles, her fingers playing with the charms of his necklace.

"Where's Henry?" He asks after a time.

"With Regina." She answers back swiftly, giving no more explanation.

He wonders at that; Thursday nights are moving picture night with pizza and popcorn. Killian has spent the last few of them at the loft, snuggling under a blanket with Emma while Henry shakes his head in teenage embarrassment and her parents make dinner. He doesn't press for more details, though, feeling her tense against him.

They settle into the quiet, his fingers slipping under the hem of her sweater to rest against her heated skin. She's so soft, like silk and he can't help but run his fingertips up and down her side. She moves against him, lips reaching up to brush under his jaw, encouraging his touch with her soft kiss. He shifts them so that she's lying on her back, his hand twining in her hair as he looks down at her.

"Will you tell me, love?" He asks softly, watching as the wariness fills her eyes again. She takes a deep breath, a hitch to it that makes his gut clench.

"They lied to me." She finally says and her eyes fill with tears. He's not quite clear who has lied at first, but as he waits for her to say more, he susses it out. It can only be her parents; no one else's betrayal would hurt her quite like this.

"What did they lie to you about?" He asks softly, reaching up to brush away a tear.

"Everything they told me since I met them has been a lie. They aren't who I thought they were. _I'm _ not who I thought I was." He doesn't understand what she's saying, but he knows not to push her too hard. This is tearing her apart, what she's confessing to him, and he won't make it worse by digging at her.

Instead he leans forward, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth, brushing away another tear as it breaks loose.

"I'm just so tired." She says then, a desperation in her voice that has him searching her eyes. "Everyone always lets me down. And I just thought that maybe I'd finally found people who wouldn't." Then she's squeezing her eyes shut and sobbing, bringing her hands up to her face to hide from him.

He wraps her in his arms, his heart breaking for her. He rocks her back and forth the best he can in the small space they share, whispering soothing words as he holds her. It takes a little while, but she finally settles against him again, her tears subsiding after a fashion.

He shifts them, arm wrapped around her as he pulls her into his chest. He tells her to sleep, to close her eyes and he'll chase away any bad thoughts that threaten her slumber. She's able to fall into a restless sleep as he holds her.

He wonders just what exactly her parents have done to upset her so. She loves them, trusts them explicitly, but it appears that they've done something to wound her deeply. It worries him, especially after what Ursula told him about the Dark One and his master plan for the Savior.

Darkness starts with pain and he sees in Emma the kind of pain that's the perfect foundation to build such evil.

He doesn't sleep, the combination of his worry for Emma and Gold's dark plan for her weighing heavily on his thoughts. It's not just that, though. It's also the fact that Emma is pressed so tightly to him that he's having a hard time distinguishing where she ends and he begins. He can feel each rise and fall of her chest as she breathes, can feel her body's heat wrapping around him like a vine wraps around a tree.

Part of him feels guilty for thinking this way when she's so clearly upset, but he's a man in love with a distractingly beautiful woman. A woman that he aches for, every minute of every day. A woman who is his happy ending.

A woman who's currently pressing kisses into his chest…

He starts against her, reaching up to grasp her hand that's wrapped around the chain of his necklace.

"Emma?"

"Help me forget that people keep disappointing me, Killian, please. Don't let me down, too."

"Emma." He sighs, stilling her roaming hand. "I don't intend to let you down. You know that, darling, but I don't want our first time together to be when you're this upset about your parents. I want it to be a special moment between you and me, no one else involved."

She quirks a brow at that, pulling back to stare into his face. "Pretty sure it's just you and me here, tiger, unless you've got another mermaid stashed onboard that I don't know about."

"Not bloody likely." He growls before flopping back against the covers when she presses a most delicious kiss to his neck, her tongue running along his heated skin.

Gods, but he loves her mouth.

"Good. I wouldn't want your attentions elsewhere." She starts to slide down his body, stopping to press a kiss over his heart before moving down so that her mouth hovers right above his rigid manhood.

He's trying, he swears to the gods that he's _trying_ to be a gentleman, but she makes it bloody difficult when she presses her lips to the zipper of his jeans where it's currently situated over his cock. He can feel her heated breath through the denim and he knows she's purposefully blowing extra hard so that he can. It has him groaning in seconds and he sits up, nudging her away so he can calm his raging hormones. Then he's pushing her onto her back, capturing her hand above her head as he clenches his jaw in agitation.

"Stop, Emma."

"I don't think you really want me to stop, Hook." She flirts back, reaching her free hand down to press against him with a mischievous giggle.

She's gorgeous, he thinks as he stares down at her. Her eyes are blown wide with desire, lips red and swollen, her hair spread out over the pillows beneath her. She looks wonderfully tousled and wanting and the blood throbs in his cock at the sight of her.

"No, I bloody well don't want you to stop, but you need to. For both our sanities." Despite his words, he settles between her splayed legs, his cock resting hard against her sex. She can feel him, he knows she can, and he flexes his hips to create a little friction. Her back arches and her eyes slide close when he does it again.

"Gods, but you could temp an honest man to sin, love." He whispers as he watches her.

He knows he's said something terribly wrong when she tenses at his words, her eyes flaring open with such a look of such despair in them that he stops, pulls back.

"Emma?"

"Why did you say that?" She asks, voice trembling. "Killian, what made you say that?" Then she's pushing him up and away as she climbs off the bed to stand in front of him, wild-eyed and afraid.

"Emma. Calm down." He holds out his hand to her, sensing that he's inadvertently hit on an insecurity he wasn't aware of as her magic sparks.

She hasn't been upset enough for her to lose control of her magic in a while, but suddenly, she's there. The lanterns that he'd lit before brighten substantially and the flames that were only merrily flickering before now jump about erratically. The room is suddenly ten times brighter and he squints his eyes.

He senses that she's about to run and he can't let her do that, not again, not like last time when he'd chased her all over the damn town. He pushes himself off the bed, grabbing her and pulling her tight to him. He can barely see the flames are so bright, but he doesn't need to in order to hold her.

"Emma!"

"Let me go!" She struggles against him, pushing back with her magic. It doesn't hurt, he decides, thinking that she must be holding back. It feels hot where his skin touches hers, but it's nothing more than that. He tightens his arms around her.

"I'm never letting you go, Emma. _Never_." He says fiercely, savagely, before he bends his head to hers.

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_Do me a solid. Review it like a rock star, my beauties. _


	2. Part II

Her mouth stays closed at first, a thin line of anger beneath his and then he's twisting his hand into her hair, tilting her head to suck her bottom lip into his mouth so that she'll open to him. He groans when she does, sliding his tongue against hers.

He turns her toward the bed, walking her backward. She'd told him earlier that it was too small to sleep in, but what he plans on doing in it now doesn't in any way resemble sleeping. The back of her knees bump against it, stopping their momentum and when he pulls back to reach for the hem of her sweater, she's panting. She follows his lips with hers in a way that makes him painfully hard.

"I thought you said you wanted our first time to be special." She manages to get out before she's kissing him again, a little angrily, he thinks.

"_Any _time with you is special, Swan." He replies back. He yanks her sweater over her head, staring in awe at the snow white expanse of skin he's uncovered.

She's wearing a black lacy bra that he can see her rosy pink nipples through. As gorgeous as she is in it, he wants it _off_. He's already learned how to work the clasp on these contraptions one-handed (he loves those nights when he invites Emma to his room at Granny's and they "make out" like two randy teenagers, something he hasn't felt like in centuries).

Reaching behind her, he pops the clasp, the straps immediately going slack on her shoulders. He wastes no time sliding the left one down, bending his head to suck her lusciously hardened peak into his mouth. He moans at the taste of her, the feel of her against his tongue.

Hand on her waist, he pushes her back against the bed, following her closely as she lays down. He's between her thighs before she's even settled all the way on her back, mouth still glued to the soft swell of her breast as she writhes beneath him.

He's impatient for her and he slides his hook down her side, loving the way she gasps as the cool steel presses into her skin. She's wearing a pair of those pants that she just slides into, "stretchy pants," he seems to remember her telling him once. He uses the hook to push down the material, thankful there are no buttons or snaps or zippers since he's loathe to move his hand from it's current residence on her breast.

When he's pushed them off as much as he can without her help, she sits up to finish the job. He kneels before her, starting to undo his vest, damning the numerous buttons he's chosen to adorn himself with. His hand is shaking, his usual dexterity gone as desperation makes the task particularly tedious.

Emma finishes pushing her pants off, taking her socks with them and kicking it all over the side of the bed. As he continues to work on his waistcoat, he keeps his eyes on her, staring with particular interest at the tiny scrap of black lace covering her sex.

She slides over to him, settling on her knees to help unbutton his shirt as he finishes up with his waistcoat.

"You need less buttons." She manages to say, leaning forward to press a heated kiss over his heart as her nimble fingers finish undoing the last shirt button as he finishes with the waistcoat. Both items follow her pants over the side of the bed.

He still has his hook on, his brace firmly in place. He's not sure what she'd prefer him to do, leave it on or take it off. The thought of asking, though, has him clenching his jaw and glowering at her as if she's somehow offended him.

"Hey." She says, reaching up to brush against the frown lines between his brows. "Where did you go?"

"It matters not, Swan." He murmurs, schooling his face and then leaning back into her, trying to capture her lips again.

"No. Stop." She presses a hand over his heart, the other on his waist as she holds him still. He can feel the warmth of her magic in her fingers and it calms him, reminds him of her goodness and her acceptance. "You wouldn't let me run away just now and I'm not going to let you run either. Tell me what has you clenching your jaw like that."

He doesn't respond, just stares at her, his cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"Hey." She whispers again, hand sliding from its resting place over his heart so that she can wrap her arms around his waist and pull him closer into her arms. The tips of her breasts brush against him and he's suddenly having a hard time remembering what was bothering him. She tilts her head back as she smiles up at him, her hair cascading down her back and tickling his forearm as he slides his arms around her.

"Tell me." She demands gently and because he can never deny his love anything, he swallows hard and takes a shaky breath before responding.

"It's been a long while since I've entertained a lass in my bed and it's been even longer since I've done so without my hook."

"Oh." She smiles gently and presses herself tighter around him. "Well, then I'd say you're due, pirate."

"Emma, it's not…no one's seen…" He sighs, not able to find the words to express this particular agony. She waits patiently for him and he tries again. "It's ugly and _dark_…" His voice falls away when he sees her green eyes flare, then he's gasping as she kisses him, tongue rough and demanding.

"I don't care, I've never cared about that." She manages to get out between her deep, drugging kisses that steal his breath. Then she's whispering hotly as she presses her forehead to his, her eyes blazing green at him. "I'm not afraid of your darknesses, Killian. Show me."

He can feel his cheeks flush at the request, his stomach clenching with anxiety, but he knows she needs this from him, that by showing her his vulnerability, it will help heal whatever wounds her parents inflicted on her today.

He gives her a sharp nod, reaching up to grasp her hand in his. He brings it down to his damaged wrist, showing her where the buckle and clasps are, knowing it'll go faster if she removes it for him. His breath is ragged as she works and he can't help but close his eyes, turning his head to shut out the sight of his deformity.

He should've known her better than that because she pauses, then reaches up to grasp his chin in her fingers. Gently, she turns his head back to her, trails her fingers over the stubble on his jaw as she waits for him to open his eyes for her.

When he does, his breath rushes out of him at the depth of emotions he finds in her gaze, none of it the pity he feared he'd find.

Then she's looking down to the hideous wreck of his arm and he can feel her trace along it, her magic warming his scarred skin. Wrapping her fingers around his wrist, she lifts it up to press over her heart. He can feel her pulse under his damaged wrist, the beats echoing up his arm, vibrating in tandem to his own racing heartbeat.

"You're beautiful." She whispers then, the words falling easily from her lips.

"Emma." He whispers, choking back a sob as he pulls her into him, hand grasping the back of her neck as he kisses her once again. It's one of those soft, slow kisses that he loves to share with her. One that curls his toes and has him throbbing in anticipation of her mouth elsewhere on his body.

She pulls slowly out of his arms to settle back into the pillows, smiling shyly as her hands trail down her stomach, eyes on his as she slides her hand between her thighs. He can't help but flick his eyes down to watch the way she lingers there, nails catching on the black lace.

He groans at the sight and just when he thinks she can't do anything more erotic, she's slipping out of the panties, dropping them onto the floor, then presses her hand back between her legs. She spreads herself, showing all of her treasure to him and his heart races as he watches how she touches herself.

Not willing to continue as a passive participant, he moves to join her, but she sits up and stops him with a hand on his belt buckle.

"You're wearing too many clothes."

"Aye, but I make them look _good_, love." She laughs at that, a joyous sound that has him grinning as she undoes his buckle and the button on his pants before pushing down the zipper to slide her hand inside. When she wraps her small hand around him, he sighs, the relief and agony of her touch like nothing he's ever felt before.

She only strokes him once or twice before they're back to impatient movements, hands yanking down his pants, lips on his hipbone before he presses her back into the pillows again. He's instantly between her thighs, hips holding her wide as he kisses her.

She's moaning into his mouth with wicked abandon, and his heart is racing hard enough that he's sure she can feel it thudding against her ribs. He pulls back enough to slip his hand between their bodies, reaching down to brush lightly against her damp curls.

Needing her permission (he is a gentleman, after all), he waits there, trailing his fingers along her heat teasingly, but never dipping down into her slickness. He can hear her panting in his ear as he bites her pulse, his tongue soothing the teethmarks he leaves behind.

"Killian, god, just touch me already." He hears her beg and he wastes no more time, his fingers pressing into her as she lifts her hips to meet him halfway. The sigh that leaves her lips and brushes against his ear has him grinning devilishly at her.

"If the lady insists." He manages to say and if she wasn't currently fucking his finger, he's fairly certain she'd be rolling her eyes at him for that. As it is, she's riding his hand, one of hers wrapped tightly around the chain of his necklace, the other gripping the pillow behind her head. She's biting down so hard on her lip that he's a bit concerned she'll draw blood, so he leans down to kiss her.

When he finds that spot deep within that has her keening, he flicks his thumb against her clit and with just a few more gentle presses inside her, he feels her tense beneath him. He continues to kiss her through her orgasm, swallowing her delicious cry of pleasure as it breaks through her.

He brings her down afterward with gentle kisses and caresses, murmuring sweet nothings into her ear and making her giggle with naughty jokes. When he finally settles on his elbows above her, she's all pink cheeked and red lipped and he can't help but marvel at how far they've come since she first held a blade to his throat and called his bluff.

"What are you thinking now?" She asks him, tilting her head to the side as she stares up at him. Her hand is on his cheek, thumb tracing along the scar that seems to fascinate her, her other pressed over his heart.

"I was just remembering the day we met."

"Really? That's not a very romantic memory."

"Oh, I don't know, Swan. You cut quite the figure in your red leather and I, dashing pirate that I am, was looking particularly fetching."

"Fetching, huh?" She snorts at that and he grins.

"Aye. You know you wanted me, Swan. Admit it."

"You were annoying and way too sure of yourself. I admit nothing." She protests, shaking her head at him in denial.

"Come now, love, admit you wanted to have your wicked way with me and that you felt horribly guilty for not doing so. That and for leaving me there, of course." He ducks his head when he sees her eyes widen at his mention of how she'd left him chained at the top of the beanstalk.

"Killian, you aren't still mad at me about that, are you? I didn't know you back then. I made sure Anton wouldn't do you any harm before I left you. I just couldn't risk…"

"That you were wrong about me. Aye, I remember, love." He whispers against her neck as he trails his chin down along her skin. He scrapes his teeth over her collarbone then continues down her body, hovering between her breasts before tracing the beautiful swell of one with his lips.

"I _was_ wrong about you, you know." He quirks an eyebrow at that, looking up from his place above her quickly hardening nipple. She brushes his hair off his forehead softly, smiling wistfully. "I was pretty sure, if given half the chance, I'd fall madly in love with you. And I thought that if I fell in love with you, you'd break my heart."

He stills, not quite sure he's understanding what she's trying to say. "Were you wrong about the falling in love with me part or the hurting you part?" He dares to ask.

"The breaking my heart part, Hook. That was the part I was wrong about." Her voice is gently chiding and he feels something inside his chest shift, something that feels suspiciously like hope.

"Then, you were right about the falling in love with me part?" He clarifies and when she bites her lip and nods her head shyly with tears smearing the whites of her eyes, he finds that he's blinking back his own tears as he presses his mouth hard into hers.

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_Things are getting steamy...and luckily, you don't have to wait for them to! Review it up, dearies!_


	3. Part III

He pours his whole heart and soul into this kiss, wanting her to understand just how much her words mean. He's suddenly throbbing so hard against her that he thinks if she were to wrap her hand around him and give two hard strokes, he'd lose himself like an untested youth all over her stomach.

"Please tell me you have condoms." She whispers as his hips stutter against hers, his cock rubbing enticingly against her heat.

"Aye, love, a pirate is always prepared." He grins, scooting up a little higher on the bed, reaching above her to push a book aside and grasp the box of condoms he'd placed there a few days ago. She's already explained to him about the marvels of sex in this modern world. Most of the concepts aren't that unfamiliar, just a little more advanced than what existed in the Enchanted Forest.

"Oh, thank god." She sighs, taking the box from him and ripping open the top. She digs inside and detaches a packet then contemplates him, brows down in furrowed thoughtfulness. She rips open the square packet, extracting a small circle before looking down to his cock with an appraising glance.

"I guess you'll need some help with this."

"Two hands are better than one, especially when they're your two hands, love." He manages to say as he settles on his knees before her. She leans up, pumping him gently in her hand for a blissful moment before rolling the condom slowly over him. He wrinkles his nose at the smell of the latex and she rolls her eyes at him, but then distracts him by leaning forward to press a kiss to his tip.

She lays back against the pillows, legs splayed as she grabs the charms of his necklace to pull him down to her.

"Okay?" She asks, attentive to the fact it's the first time he's worn such a contraption. He slides his cock slowly along the seam of her body, sighing in satisfaction when she moans and arches her back.

"More than okay, Swan." He responds with a lecherous grin.

"Some men say they can't feel anything with one on." She says, all breathless and wanton.

He flexes his hips again, dragging the heft of his cock through her slick folds. He sees what she means, the sensations are muted, but he can still feel her heat and he knows that once he's inside her, the sensations will intensify.

"Then they're doing something wrong, love. You feel _unbelievable._" He's able to whisper, his head dropping as he flexes his hips again, this time settling far enough between her legs that with one more strong flex he'll be inside her.

The enormity of the moment doesn't pass him by and he stills above her, resting on the elbow of his damaged arm, good hand brushing away tendrils of hair from her face. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are sparkling in the flickering light. It's cliched in many ways, but he knows that after this night together, their relationship is going to change, but it's a good change, a welcome one.

"Killian?" She whispers up to him, her hand cradling his cheek as he stares down at her.

"Sorry, love. Just thinking."

"Ah. There you go again, brooding."

"Not brooding. More like swept up in the moment." She smiles at that, then spreads her legs a little more, pressing herself up into him, a smile bringing out her dimples.

"Well, why don't you sweep me up with you?" He smirks at that, leaning down to kiss her, sighing at the simple glide of her tongue along his.

Their hands wander, taking time to explore areas that they've previously kept under wraps. It's always been just patches of skin up to now, revealed for mere moments before one or the other pulls away regretfully. They've been so careful not to cross this line before now and while part of Killian knows that to do so tonight could have consequences down the road, he also knows that he can't deny them this any longer.

If she wants him, she can have him, body and soul.

The thought has him throbbing hard against her center, feeling her heat pressed intimately against his cock and he flexes his hips again, sliding wonderfully along her swollen flesh. He does it again and again, his body instinctively taking over. It's not long before they're both whimpering into each other's mouths, her hips lifting off the bed to meet his thrusts.

He loses track of how long they dance like this, their bodies seeking relief from the pent-up desire they've so far managed to keep in check. Her hands run down his sides, settling on his ass as she pulls him harder into her on each downward flex of his hips.

He wants to ask her one more time if she's sure, wants to be very clear about what they're about to do, but just as he lifts his head to do so, she reaches around to grab his cock, bringing him to her body. He stills, breath catching as they stare at each other. She gives a quick, jerky nod to his unspoken question and once he sees her acquiesce, he surges forward into her. She's more than ready for his intrusion and he slides all the way home, a contented moan falling from his lips to match the one that fall from hers.

He's buried to the hilt, reveling in the tight clasp of her body, his breath harsh in his chest as he holds himself above her. He watches her face for any sign of discomfort, knowing it's been a while for her and that he's more than adequate enough to hurt her if he's not careful.

"Oh, _god_." She manages to whisper as he pulls back and then slowly, oh, so slowly slides back into her waiting heat. Nerve endings along the length of his cock rage at the sensation, at the way she seems to pull him back into her body and he can't help but stare as she arches her back beneath him, her eyes squeezed shut with pleasure.

"I don't know how long I can last, love." He manages to whisper after a few blissful thrusts into her. Perhaps he should be embarrassed by how close he already is to his release, but he can't find it in him to be so.

"It's okay." She whispers, her breath hot against him. She stretches luxuriously beneath him, hitching her thigh up on his waist as he slides into her, wrenching a groan from him as he presses deeper inside her.

"God, that's it." She whispers encouragingly and he bites into her shoulder when he hears the breathy quality of her voice. "You feel so good, Killian."

He groans again and then grips her thigh hard in his hand, maneuvering himself onto his back. She settles against him, legs on either side of his hips, her hands on his chest for balance. He looks up at her, in awe of the goddess that is currently sitting on his cock, her blond tresses tousled around her shoulders, gorgeously pink nipples poking through.

He flexes his hips up into her, once, twice, and then places his hand at her hip, stump resting on her thigh as she rolls down to meet him on the third thrust.

"_Shit_." She breathes, head falling back as she begins to ride him.

He can feel her pulsing around him, body clenched tight to his. Thankfully, though, this angle is different enough that he's now able to hold back his climax. He's content to watch as she finds her rhythm, focusing on giving her what she needs to fall apart astride him.

He can feel when she's close. Her legs tremble against him and she's quiet as she concentrates on chasing her pleasure. He starts to wonder if perhaps he should reach for her clit when Emma takes charge and slides her hand from his chest down to where they're joined. He watches, biting his lip as she touches herself. Her hips stutter and he's instantly sitting up, hand on her waist as he helps her keep her rhythm.

"That's it, love." He encourages her, watching her move above him. "You are bloody gorgeous, woman."

She grins at that, free hand coming to rest on his shoulder as she continues to roll her hips against his. He can feel his own restraint slipping again as she moves closer and closer to her orgasm and he works to keep his rhythm consistent as best he can. He leans forward to suck a perfect nipple into his mouth, all of his pleasure throbbing deep inside her heat. She's started moaning again, little unchecked sighs of pleasure that fill his cabin with an erotic melody he hasn't heard in far too long a time.

"Killian." She whimpers, her hips stuttering against him and he knows she's on the edge. He brings his mouth to hers, chasing her lips with his own so that he can taste her pleasure when she reaches it.

She stops moving against him and he takes over for her, holding her tight as he lifts his hips up into her. He feels her entire body tense, a wild moan slipping from her lips to his, and he whispers into her mouth as she clamps down hard on his cock, "I love you, Emma."

He barely moves as she sobs her release into him, his own ripping through him so hard that white lights flash behind his closed eyelids. Then he realizes that it's Emma's magic making the light flicker around them as they taste each other's pleasure.

When it ends, he's shaking, hardly able to keep holding her upright. Their foreheads are pressed together, bodies slick from their exertions and the smell of sex is thick in the air. He chuckles after a moment, a blissfully happy and sated sound against the backdrop of creaking wood and she joins him after a moment or two.

"I thought you said you couldn't last." She says when she finally pulls away, cheeks pink and mouth curling up in the most becoming smile he's ever seen. So that's what Emma Swan looks like when she's been good and truly fucked, he thinks mischievously.

He's determined to keep that look on her face for the rest of their days.

"What can I say, love, you inspired me." She grins at that and he lays back, taking her with him. She's astride him, bodies still merged, but she shifts against him after a moment and pulls back.

"You have to get rid of the condom." She reminds him, slowly sliding off him, grimacing when he slips from her body. She helps him maneuver the condom, showing him how to carefully remove it. He'll need her help in future, he says, since it's a tricky job with one hand and she nods, a pretty blush on her cheeks. He takes the bit of latex from her, leaving the bed to dispose of it, rinsing his hand in the water basin that rests along one wall before returning to her.

"There's other things we can use to prevent a pregnancy." She says thoughtfully as he slides back into bed, pulling her tight to his side and sighing when her warm weight settles against him.

"Like what?" He asks, lips pressed to her hair, eyelids drooping with a contended restfulness that only comes from true satiation.

"There are pills I can take or a shot. I'll look into them and decide what's best."

"I'll help." He says lazily, a yawn cracking his jaw. She looks up at him, a bemused expression on her face.

"You'll help?"

"Hmm." He sleepily responds, smiling as he brushes her hair from her cheek. "Is that not what men do in this realm?"

"Um, not usually, no."

"Would you prefer that I don't?"

"No, it's just not what I'm used to, is all. It's good, though. We'll research together." Her smile widens for him and then a dark thought passes through her mind, stealing her smile as she brings her brows down in thought.

"What is it, love?"

"It's just…there's so much that's different about the way you and I are together, you know, from how it was with Neal and…" Her voice trails off here and then she blushes before continuing. "And with Walsh. You surprise me, is all."

"In a good way?"

"Always in a good way." She stares at him for a moment. "You've surprised me a lot this week."

"Aye?"

"Yeah. Telling me things that I guess I kinda knew, but haven't really thought too much about."

"Such as?" She looks down to where her hand is pressed to his chest, pausing as if she's counting his heartbeats and then looks back up with another pretty pink blush on her cheeks.

"Like telling me I'm your happy ending and that you love me."

"Ah." He smiles gently, squeezing her tightly into him. "All truths, my love." She nestles against him, saying nothing more, but he's content just to hold her, not needing her to respond in kind. The soft rocking of his ship and her warmth wrapped around him soothes him, causes his eyelids to slide shut.

He can't remember the last time he was so happy.

"Killian?" She asks, her voice timid in the quiet.

"Hmm?"

"I still have to tell you about my parents, but I found some happiness here with you tonight and I want to enjoy it a little bit more before I have to return to all that."

"As you wish." He whispers, reaching up to brush the back of his knuckles along the apple of her cheek.

"Oh, Killian, what they did…" Her voice peters out and he pulls her harder into his arms.

"I know you'll tell me in your own time, love, and I can wait for that." He presses a kiss to her temple and decides to bring a bit of levity back to the evening. "We can spend the rest of tonight on the _Jolly Roger, _enjoying our quiet time together." He can feel her press a smile into his chest and his heart fairly sings at the contact.

"Maybe we could spend some time seeing if you can surprise me again." He can hear the flirtation in her voice, the giggle waiting just under the surface and he presses her onto her back as he hovers above her.

"Surprises are my particular speciality, milady." He whispers as he begins to move down her body, the music of her laughter spurring him along to the beautiful heat between her thighs.

* * *

It's not until they sit on deck the next morning to watch the sunrise and share a mug of coffee that she tells him about what the Prince and Princess did. She grips his hand so hard as she tells him that he worries she'll cut off the circulation in his fingers, but he holds her hand back just as hard. He can see how her parents' actions have tilted her world off it's axis and how she's doubting herself now, doubting her goodness.

She wants to find Maleficent, to apologize for what her parents did. He warns against it, but she's stubborn and he finally agrees, but only if he's beside her to help. She nods, biting her lip as she contemplates the sun rising before them.

"Promise me something, Hook?"

"Anything."

"I don't know what's to come. If I forget that there's good in me, remind me?" He stares over at her, not believing that this woman could ever do anything that's not good or right and he endeavors in that moment to keep her as convinced of that fact as he has always been.

"We promised each other that we'll always choose to see the good in each other, remember, love?"

"Yeah, I remember." She says, softly, swaying into him. Her hand settles over his heart and he presses a kiss to her forehead.

"So, I'll add a codicil to that. I also promise to remind you of the good I see in you whenever it seems like you may have forgotten." She sighs, slumping a little against him.

"Thanks."

"You have to promise me something in return, Swan."

"Anything." She says as she pulls back to look into his eyes.

"Promise me that when all this is over, we'll find a quiet moment and you'll come back to me on the _Jolly Roger _and we'll go sailing together, just you and I."

"That sounds nice." She nods, sighing wistfully and smiling at the thought.

"Aye, it sounds bloody marvelous, love."

They sit for a while longer, not saying much, but fortifying each other with soft glances and gentle touches. By the time they finally leave his ship, their plan of attack has been decided upon and she grips his hand tightly in hers as they walk up the dock.

Killian chances a glance back at the _Jolly Roger _as they go. Many of his happiest memories in life involve his ship, last night by far one of the best. He doesn't know what the future holds, but as long as Emma Swan and the _Jolly Roger _are in it, he's sure to live out the rest of his days a happy, happy man.

* * *

_Well, there now. My muse can turn her attentions back to the other fic I've been writing. Don't forget to review, my lovelies!_


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